One of the attractions of our home, and our neighborhood, is a great canopy of old trees. By great and old, I mean an abundance of 50-, 60-, and 70-year-old trees with broad and bent trunks set in close quarters such that a squirrel might traverse the whole of the neighborhood without once setting foot on land.
The trees lend us the impression of living in a forest and they draw us into the changing of the seasons. At winter’s end, hints of leaf buds on old branches tease us to strip our outer layers even as the trees themselves re-dress in green. Like a volcanic eruption, spring spreads an invasive layer of fine yellow-green pollen from catkins, causing us colds and headaches amidst the flowers. The leaf ceiling deflects the oppressive summer heat, the monotony of which is broken by a hail of acorns that keeps the squirrels and chipmunks in the fat. Long after the heat becomes tiresome, its will begins to waver, and green gives way to resplendent shades and hues of red, orange, yellow, and gold. Fall winds and rain bring the leaves down from the trees and into drifts and then neatly raked piles, which are shredded for mulching flower beds. Then, at last, winter returns and the trees, sentinels in wind and rain and snow and ice wait patiently to bud once again.
I was thrilled to have six old oak trees on our small property when we moved in, and heartbroken soon thereafter upon learning that three of them were fatally diseased and needed taking down. The canopy that I expected to provide shade for children, branches for swings and climbing, piles of leaves to run through, not to mention reflective beauty, are gone now, and in their place is a bright gash of open sky.
I am planting trees this year – brooding on the merits of oak and elm, hickory and maple – to replace those lost. I so regret that the trees I plant will not provide branches for climbing or swinging for my children. While trees – new or old – are something of a legacy for future generations – perhaps even my grandchildren – old trees, like old friends, are not replaceable.